Page 26 of What I'm Looking For

I’m so grateful that we stayed friends after college, unlike the rest of the crew, which splintered after my breakup. Alice and I roomed together all four years. Nothing could break us apart. We’re as different as night and day, but we always have each other’s back.

After we’ve warmed up, she starts in. “So, what’s your plan with this guy?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t ask for my number. And I don’t have his.”

“What do you think phone books are for?”

“Exactly. My number is listed. If he didn’t call, he’s probably not interested. Right?”

“How did he ask you out for coffee?”

“Well, when he made me the fake drink at the bar, he kind of invited me to this volunteer thing. So I went to that, and he asked me there. But then we kind of had an argument about… I don’t even know what. I might’ve started lecturing him about how he could diversify his work?—”

“Kate!” She groans. “You can’t do that. Men have such teeny-tiny, fragile little egos.”

“So, I guess it’s too late? I should just give up?”

She blows out a breath. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen you interested in a guy like this since—I don’t know when. You do have an opportunity with this commercial. Just find his number, call him and tell him that it was wild to see him on TV.”

“Which is true.” Maybe it is that easy. Let him know I’m interested, without being too needy or pushy. “I’ll think about it, but let’s pick up the pace a bit. Get our heart rates up.”

Alice’s brow waggles. “I know something else that’ll get your heart rate up.”

“Do you have a one-track mind or what?” I shove her toward the grass and sprint ahead.

“I think you know the answer to that,” she yells before catching up with me. “Since I have to have enough sex for the both of us, did I tell you about the anesthesiologist I had a date with last week?”

“No. Where did you meet him?”

“At that wine tasting class. I’m telling you, you have to do one of these with me. Lots of guys with good taste. And money to spend. Anyway, he took me to the best restaurant. The East Coast Grill—remember we were saying we wanted to go there? It was amazing, and so was he?…”

My mind drifts as Alice’s story continues. Will wouldn’t be likely to take me to fancy restaurants. But do I care?

“And I promise, that’s all I’m going to say.” Oops. Sounds like I missed something good. “Except this. If we churn out an extra couple miles, I think we’ve earned a big breakfast out. What do you say?”

I’m always happy to reward myself after a good run, so why shouldn’t I do the same in the rest of my life? After I started trotting out my accent on our road trip, Roland declared that I was ready to step up at work. Perhaps I should try it on other fronts as well.

I lengthen my stride and flash a smile at my best friend. “First one to the bridge gets to choose the restaurant.”

* * *

The followingMonday on the way to Portland for our first marketing trip, I work up the courage to ask Steve, “Hey, do you have that actor’s phone number? You know, the one your friend cast in that commercial where he chases the coffee cup?”

Steve fumbles his cigarette mid-drag and has to feel around under his feet to retrieve it. “Bishop! I thought you played for the other team!”

“Are you for real right now, Hot Steve?”Shit.“I mean, Steve.”

Taking a last drag on the rescued cigarette, he chuckles as he stubs it out in the ashtray. “Yeah, I mean, you turned down everybody who asked you out, even me,Hot Steve, so we figured you must be gay. Or am I supposed to say lesbian?” Eyes back on the road, thankfully, he taps his hand on the wheel and sings along with Robert Palmer on “Simply Irresistible” for a few bars before giving me a sidelong glance. “Hey, could you keep this on the QT? There’s a pool on whether you’re bangin’ girls or guys, and I want to change my bet before other people find out.”

“Don’t you guys have better things to do with your time than bet on my sex life?”

He just smirks.

If only there were fewer than fifty William Talbots in the Boston phone book. “Fine. You get me his number, and I will not tell anyone that I’m actually into men.”

He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Gonna do the nasty with the actor, Bishop?”

Eyes on the map, I take a deep breath to keep my cool. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I am simply calling to congratulate him on his commercial.”

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